


As The World Falls Down

by MrowSaystheCat



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'm Sorry, M/M, Will be adding tags as things progress, Work In Progress, not beta-ed, this is probably crap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3642726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrowSaystheCat/pseuds/MrowSaystheCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several years in the future, the remains of the prison still stand.  It has long since been returned to, repaired the best it could be.   However, all their good intentions are about to go to ruin.  Soon, the group will have to move yet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This story is born of a strange, random thought I had. It probably isn't plausible, given the attack still happened. Just didn't sustain quite as much damage.. yes! However, fanfiction allows us to explore possibilities which most might deem 'far-fetched'. This is also based on something dealing with a Zombie Apocalypse. Fair game, right? Anyway, we are about eight years in the future. Maggie has passed away (from as yet unwritten circumstances; aka - IDK what killed her yet, but it wasn't an awful ending.) Glenn has their six year old daughter to take care of. Michonne and Rick are a thang; they have twins together. Carol isn't with anyone, she's happy being a 'den mother' (HEHEHE) and Daryl? 
> 
> Well, this is a Darlenn fic, so sue me. Well, not literally. Please.  
> I hope no one is extremely out of character! This is my first time writing for this fandom. Be gentle?

The sound of her laughter pulled him back to the moment. He'd been backtracking through the years; distantly watching the world as it blossomed again. Spring had come, the winter was mostly spent. At least some days, so it seemed. Others? It was as though the spidery cold wanted to hold on for one last go at them. Still, they'd made it to the proverbial clear. 

That wasn't what concerned him in the moment, of course. It was the childish joy which his daughter displayed; oblivious to that which troubled him and the rest of the adults. They would need to clear out soon, now that it was less dangerous to move. The prison had sustained them for so long, no one had ever thought they day would arrive that they would exhaust their resources. They all should have seen it coming, of course. The summer before had been brutal, though fall had proven a gentle hand. Winter, though? Winter had stung the most, the deepest something had for what seemed to be years. 

It hadn't even been this bad the year Maggie died. 

Just the thought alone made him recoil a little in to himself; the thought of her loss like a fresh wound. Wasn't it every time? However, he'd long since learned to live with the pain. Had it not been for Cara, though - he doubted he'd be there right then. He'd have followed Maggie in to the unknown; that place beyond life where nothing could touch them. Would it have been cowardly of him, or would it have been born of pure romance? Or just.. loneliness? Not that the rest of his family didn't love him, didn't care. He knew they did. But when she'd gone? All he could see was the hole she'd left in the fabric of the world; despair had tugged him close and stroked his hair. The cries of their little girl, only two years old, had pulled him back from the brink he'd been toeing at.

Cara had that magic about her; always able to bring him away from the darkest corner of himself. But wasn't that what daughters did? A little smile tugged at his lips then, and he watched her as she ran around in the fresh, cold grass. She was leading a troop of faeries, it seemed. A year older than the fraternal twins - a boy and a girl - that had graced Michonne and Rick; they followed her in their merriment as they always did. Judith was with them, sitting in the grass while she sang something Beth had taught them all on her guitar. Glenn couldn't help but smirk to himself; he'd been listening to too many stories that Beth and Carol told to the children. 

"A troop of faeries." He sighed aloud, glancing away from the joy of the children to check the sky for signs of storms. 

"Whatch'ya muttering about, Korea?" Daryl, of course. Coming over from talking with Carol, who was busy as always with putting together a meal for those who were still in residence. So many had passed in to the ether; walking a road with Maggie, Hershel and so many others that it was too hard to recount them. He felt words stick in his throat, and he glanced at Daryl with tears brimming in his eyes. "Shit." It wasn't a cruelty; there was regret in the older man's voice. He handed him a mug full of rich, dark coffee. "Here."

"Thank you." Glenn stated, using one hand to wipe away that which threatened to grace his cheeks. The other took the pro-offered coffee from his friend.

"'Stale as hardtack, but what can ya do?" Daryl's voice was low, the gravelly cadence always a welcome sound. He said nothing more about Glenn's emotional state. Instead, he merely lingered by his side and turned his eyes to the gathering clouds as well. The two men remained against the cool bricks, facing the yard where the children continued to play. 

"Leaving here is going to be hard on them all." Silence had lingered with them, until that point. Glenn took a sip of the then luke-warm coffee. 

"S'gonna be hard on all of us." Daryl supplied, leading the somewhat shorter man to nod and then glance at the ground. Blue eyes locked on Glenn's actions; watching the arm which didn't belong to the mug-wielding hand cross over his front in a protective fashion. Yeah, Glenn was feeling something deep. Gently, Daryl's own free hand reached out and took the other man by the back of the neck. A companionable squeeze brought those chocolate eyes up to Daryl's face, and as always? He was blown away by the sheer amount of the Kid's soul found within that gaze. Daryl knew he shouldn't keep tagging that nickname to Glenn, but he couldn't help it. How could he? And how could he not ache for that pain which the other man swallowed every day?

"Yeah." 

"We'll get by, Glenn." 

"Wish we could do so here." Was the sigh, and the younger man scooted closer to the elder. Daryl didn't move away from that subtle slide. Everyone knew what was slowly growing between them; something which Daryl had harbored a hope for in his heart for how long? It was tentative, at least of yet. He knew Glenn still hurt something fierce for Maggie; how could he not? Everyone there missed someone, a lot of someones. They had made so many heartfelt connections; they were thicker than blood. He wouldn't crowd the other man, would not push him in to something which the younger wasn't ready for. However, every day? Glenn warmed up a little more, came a little closer. It was like trying to lure in an animal that had been wounded; one you wanted to help, maybe even tame. Wasn't that a funny thought?

Most people would expect that he'd be the one to need taming; not Glenn. But then, it wasn't even that - unless one counted that wild sorrow which would writhe in those heartfelt, clever eyes. He'd always loved the color of Glenn's eyes, and how easily they wrote the truth of the younger man's heart. It had been hard to read the stories displayed in them, these last years.

"Y'heard Rick yesterday; we're close to breaking here." Daryl's voice was lower than usual, his lips close to Glenn's ear as he spoke. This wasn't a conversation to have too loudly; the children obviously didn't know yet, and he didn't want to be the voice which told them. That was for their parents. "Another month, maybe two at most - but we _gotta go_ , Kid."

"And where are we going to go?" Glenn's voice hadn't raised, but he heard the threat of it. The same question he'd asked when they'd all spoken on it the day before. It was, as yet, unanswered - but they were in better shoes going out than they had been coming in. They knew that much. The caravan would have to be successful in finding something, or they would be as lost as they would be if they remained. "I still think we should stay, and send groups out further to find provisions. We're not going to find a place we can defend like this, not unless we find a damn Fort or something. Can you imagine what it would be like to clean _that_?"

Daryl didn't answer. He'd thought of the same, and they were all getting older. Granted, none of them were nearing ancient; they were still spry, their reflexes still on point - they trained, they foraged, they remained aware of the world outside. They would be fine, or so they all had to hope. However, with Glenn reacting like this? He wondered if the younger man didn't have a better grip of it all than the rest of them did. 

"No, sorry. The rest of you are right; we need to leave. Everything is failing, all around us. The last attack from those scavengers really did a number, not to mention the remaining damage from when...." Glenn switched tracks then, still having a hard time believing how they'd returned to reclaim their home once the Governor's people had been defeated. The horde of walkers had pressed forward; a swarm, a plague. Then, finding nothing after a matter of days? They'd dispersed, leaving a few stragglers that were swiftly dispatched - though they'd lost so many of their own. The prison had also become smaller; so many areas had become rubble. What was that one saying that everyone liked to use, right before the world fell to shit? 'The struggle is real'. It was. It hadn't ever stopped. 

Daryl's arm dropped then; so that it rested gently around Glenn's middle. Again, silence reigned between the two of them. The younger man curled slightly in to his shoulder after placing the empty mug on the ground near their feet. Daryl hadn't even taken the first sip of his own. Instead, he breathed in Glenn and wondered what the advent of the new caravan would bring. How many deaths would it produce? Doubt nagged at his mind, but he said nothing. After all, he'd just heard Glenn finally agree to the idea; wouldn't do to whisper more worries to the Kid.

Still, misgiving ran deep in them both; their eyes turned towards the children. They were still blissfully unaware.

"You're right, Korea." A small smirk graced Daryl's lips, as he turned his mouth against Glenn's ear. The feel of the younger man's near-shoulder length hair, complete with little flecks of fresh silver strands, tickled against his face. "They do look like a troop of faeries." And it was probably one of the few times that Daryl could remember using that word without the intention of an insult. In the old world, it had been a way to protect himself from Merle, from his own self. Maybe, on some levels, it was better that the old world had fallen away?

He just wished that this one, that which had sustained them for so long, had not proven to be as fallible as that last.


	2. Ghost Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um - yeah. I really hope this isn't as shitty as I think it is. I hope it makes sense. Yes.

Darkness had fallen, and there were eyes in the watch towers. As always. Still, it was this restful time which drew Glenn from the prison and out towards the yard where they'd buried their dead in the time they'd dwelt there. Soon, he wouldn't have this place of connection. He wouldn't have a grave to take wildflowers to, or to sit and talk of their daughter so freely where no else heard but the one who'd given birth to her. Sometimes, he could almost feel Maggie's fingers in his hair; brushing through it in that comforting way she'd had. He'd find himself longing to rest his face against the flat of her belly, breathe in the smell of her which had so long ago vanished. Sometimes, he thought he could get whiffs of it from the wild flowers he brought on offering of remembrance, as if her ghost had blessed the gift. It wasn't the same, of course - would never be the same again. Nothing ever would be; that was the fact of death in life. 

He went down on his knees by her place; the rough-honed wooden marker rising up from a gathering of the first wild blossoms he'd been able to bring her that year. He placed the new ones with them; seeing that they were no where near withered. The tenacity of uprooted things sometimes made him think of their group, until they began to show the first faint traces of death. Glenn placed his hand on the soft rise of earth under the grass; running his fingers through the dew-spotted blades. 

"We gotta go soon, so I won't be able to come here much longer." He began, feeling the tears start to well up before he could help them. "You'll get your flowers, though - promise. I'll leave them by trees for you, or tuck them in to Cara's hair when I think of you. Yeah. You'll get your flowers somehow, babe." Glenn fell silent, his hand still atop the swell which held the body of his wife deep below. Forever enshrouded in white lace, a rare staple he'd found on a run once - back before she'd gotten sick. His thoughts moved; darker places swallowing him. The postmortem assurance she wouldn't rise again, at least not in the form which flowed towards living nightmare. He remembers, vaguely; the feel of her lifelessness in his hands. A kiss to cooling lips; their fullness something he would forever recall against his own. The swift pressure, a give of flesh - the wicked edge sliding home. Quick, shaking exit. How long had he'd held that blade afterward, thinking of how easy it would be to slit his own throat? Who had taken it from his hand, telling him the baby was crying for her Daddy?

Daryl.

The look in those knowing eyes, and how gone Glenn had felt right that moment. Yes, Cara needed him. He had to go on for her, couldn't be dragged down in something he couldn't help or change. Man up. Maggie'd be so pissed to see him like this, like he ain't got a damn thing left. Harsh words he'd needed to hear; sharp wisdom that had cut in to his numb and cracked the shell of despair wide enough for him to crawl out of. Still, he'd walked like a ghost, a shadow. Until one day, he was able to breathe a little easier, a little more freely. Healing had been slow, but it had come. Scars were forever, of course.

"She favors you, you know. So what if she's got my eyes and hair? Everything else about her is all you. I sometimes think the majority of me just got overwhelmed in the glory of you, Maggie - and the living proof is our baby." He sighed then, glancing at the headstone; the smoothed in letters of her name staring back at him. Glenn looked down, but there's a smile on his face just the same. "Well, she's not all that much of a baby any more. By her opinion, she'll be thirty someday really soon."

He takes a breath, and toys with a sprig of the fresh grass. He plucks it gently away, while he sits there at the graveside of his wife. "I have a confession, though." Glenn begins. "You might not be surprised, considering some of the things you used to tell me..." For a moment, the silence swallows all thought and he feels his throat constrict around the words - as if she were still alive, watching him with wary, yet somehow slightly amused eyes and a look of knowing. "There's something with me and Daryl." He breathes them out, still toying with the grass; unable to let his eyes rest on the letters. "Something even Cara sees. Something you used to tease me about, even at the start of us. I didn't believe it, but you knew - and you didn't mind, did you? You told me so that one night, when you were grouchy and so big with Cara you were about to pop. 'Go to Daryl, he wants you. Let him deal with your annoying ass for an hour or two, run you down. Leave me the hell alone, Glenn...' That's what you said.." A soft, short laugh came out. "I couldn't see it. Thought it was something with you being pregnant. I... I see it now, and... and now I am, kinda, you know... with him, in a way. Really kinda, honestly... I just... but... I still miss you. Still love you." There was a pause, a sigh. Glenn stretched himself out and lay his head where the ground rose up, and he closed his eyes. "Maggie, I'm scared." The words were the barest of whispers; spoken against the sweet scent of cold spring grass.

*****

He knew who it was, when he noticed the form leave the shelter and go out towards the patch of graves they'd been growing over the years. There were far more there than Daryl cared to think of, but one couldn't help the cards life dealt. He knew which one Glenn was going to, and could tell by how the other man lingered that he'd found the voice to speak to his wife about things weighing on his soul. Daryl looked away, back towards what should have his attention. Besides, that was a private conversation - one he had no place in, even if he might have factored in to it.

Glenn didn't realize a lot of things, for all the smarts the man had. Things could fly over his head, unless someone tacked them directly atop of him while screaming 'look, damn it'. Good thing he got the big picture when shit really mattered, though. More than got it, really. However, Daryl couldn't play pretend that his obliviousness didn't hurt in those years which had passed - but he also knew Glenn's nature. Just like he'd gotten to understand Maggie's over time. Then, of course, there was his own to contend with - and that was the first obstacle, way before the Kid's noble heart and loyalty had made Maggie adore him ... as well as become half-mad with annoyance at times. Daryl smirked lightly to himself, keeping his eyes trailing on the watch. A memory crept up slow on him, then. 

Maggie had been sick a while, and she was tired all the time. She'd been withering away, before their eyes - Glenn saying she'd be fine, as soon as winter passed. They'd pumped her with medicine they found which was still good, as well as the medicinal herbs they'd gotten their hands on. Nothing helped, but Glenn had clung to hope like it was the last raft available. It had been, in the end. Still, she'd taken that mess like the warrior she was. Silent and steady, strong and graceful. 

They'd been sitting together, watching Glenn play with Cara a small distance away. Daryl had been teasing the man, glancing over at Maggie in the end to see her smirk at the camaraderie.

"You know, Glenn's growing his hair out - I bet if you ask him really nice, he'd braid in some pigtails for you to literally pull." Maggie's green eyes had sparkled at him, full of humor and more understanding than he really should have felt comfortable with. He'd pretended not to know what the hell she'd been talking about. Still, she'd seen it. Accepted it, in her own way. It hadn't felt right, though. 

Sometimes, there was still guilt.

But...

He didn't want to go on forsaking something that he'd been craving for how long? Didn't need to keep playing the fool. Besides, he wasn't going to overwhelm Glenn if the other pushed him off in the end. Sometimes, he wondered if he should have taken Maggie up on the offer of sharing when she'd been point blank with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. Again, I hope everyone seems in character. I really am nervous about this.
> 
> Also, that start? I made myself cry. 
> 
> I'm weak.
> 
> Also, if anyone is wondering why Glenn said he was scared? Well, he's already lost one great love... Wouldn't you be scared, too?


	3. Center of the Universe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Finally got the guts to write more :x Hope it is worth the wait, loyal readers! Also, I do hope they're still in-character, or like, not so botched that it is laughable.

Glenn was sitting in the bottom bunk, his back leaning against the wall behind him. Curled up against his side, her eyes scanning the book's pages? His daughter, her dark eyes drowsy while she fought off sleep like an old pro. Once, Cara had been content with just listening to the stories. Now, she liked to read along - especially if they were new to her, and she didn't know the words coming by heart. At the moment, they were working on 'Little House in the Big Woods', the first part of the 'Little House' series. They'd found them at a nearby library; he remembered the way both Maggie and Beth had made over the collection - so they'd grabbed them. All nine. So Cara would have some of the same stories her Mother and Aunt loved when they'd been girls. He'd finally taken to bringing them out where they'd stored them. Hoping that Maggie was smiling for it, wherever she happened to be in the beyond.

It also was kinda fitting of the way they were then living. Back when he'd been Cara's age, such a lifestyle was only in books. Now, it was an everyday fact - with the added aspect of the undead coming in to play as well. So, perhaps just a little bit more macabre than the world which Laura Ingalls Wilder had grown up in? They also didn't have the seeming innocence of these books. However, they were written for children, even if they were the memories of an adult. Glenn knew enough about that time period and about humanity in general not to brand it the way Dale might have. He smirked to himself, and paused in his thoughts and the fall of words to remember the older man. For a moment, he almost wanted to laugh; his mind climbing away from Dale and back to the books, to their contents. He'd read ahead a little, and knew that there would be times when he'd have to pause the stories to explain to his daughter certain things. Like how some people had once viewed others who weren't quite like themselves...

"Daddy, keep reading." It wasn't a request, really. He knew by the tone of voice; the way she pulled at his shirt's sleeve. He glanced down at her with a raised eyebrow. He kept silent, wondering if she'd catch on to her own slight in manners. After a second, she did; and her dark eyes shone up at him, all but pleading. "Pleeeasse?"

"Alright, since you asked so nicely." He commented. Glenn smiled, then ruffled her hair as she yawned. He had the feeling she'd be out cold shortly; it wouldn't be much longer. So, they continued on the tale of Laura, Mary, Carrie, Jack, Ma and Pa. It was relaxing, to read to his child. He loved to watch the way her face lit up at the thought of another little girl, living a life which wasn't a far cry from her own - even if it was so very different. They were not, after all, in a little log house in a vast woodlands. They were in the remains of a prison, and though there were woods - well, there were other things, too. Other dangers not faced by the Ingalls family. And houses were mostly just shells to be seen, dotting the pathways which Cara's Father, Aunties and Uncles took when they were foraging. Tales to be told. Soon, though, that would change. She would be seeing some of the dead world for the first time. Glenn's blood would go cold each time he thought of it. Just as the fact he had to tell her about it all, so very soon. He glanced at her again, and wondered if he should broach the subject then. 

No.

Let her have one more night where the world beyond the fence was only a distant thing. Where all was the safety of family, familiarity and what comforts they'd been able to build for her and the other children. Besides, she was almost asleep anyway. Just a couple more sentences and.. Yup, there she went. He smiled down at her, kissed her forehead and then slid from the bed slowly and carefully. When he left her side, she curled in to the warmth he'd left behind and mumbled something in her sleep that he couldn't quite catch. It killed him that soon, she would be brought from the world of her childhood and thrown in to the very real dangers which existed. Still, they couldn't wait around much longer; their stores were dwindling with each day. 

He left the cell, going out in to the corridor beyond the bars. Daryl was sitting there in a chair, apparently having been waiting for him. They'd agreed to meet after Cara had been put to bed; 'child-free' time being something which was highly limited. Though his daughter had caught on fast to what was growing between him and Daryl, he was still a bit shy of everything that it might entail - so he was trying to make it .. easier? Quiet? He wasn't sure how to word it, even to himself. Still, was it for her benefit, or for his own? Or, was it for the memory of Maggie? Was he going about it the wrong way, especially if she knew? Knew, thought Daryl was great, was happy that her 'favorite Uncle' was in love with the 'world's best Daddy'? Things he needed to address, and soon.

"Still didn't tell her?" Daryl asked, as Glenn sat in the chair which was stationed next to the one already occupied. He was answered by a soft negative, almost like a huffed sigh and a shake of dark hair. "Glenn, ya gotta do it soon. She's gonna get told by the other kids before you can get it out yer mouth. That ain't gonna be good." 

"No, I know, Daryl. I know. The drama... Well, I'm not going to go in there and wake her up, can you imagine the nightmares she'd have after that?" Their voices were kept low, as the cell where Cara slept was nearby; just in case his baby needed him. Glenn knew that he had to break the news, and soon. He also knew that she wouldn't have nightmares. He was just making excuses then, as if holding off the information would keep the change of their lives at bay too. With the way Daryl was eying him then? Glenn was pretty sure he knew the exact reasons, too. Another heavy sigh came, and then he was rubbing his face with his hands; before placing them on his thighs. "I'll tell her tomorrow, I promise."

"Don't make that promise to me. Make it to yourself, Kid. Make it for her, because that's who this all is about, right?" Daryl had reached over, placed one of his hands over Glenn's. A second later, their fingers were laced together; hands hanging between their chairs. Daryl felt his companion lean in, so that his head was against his shoulder. They sat in silence for a little while, before Glenn turned himself in his chair. A moment later, lips were ghosting softly over Daryl's; the soft fullness of the younger man's petals something he had no comparison for. They were just... beautiful. No other words for it. He found himself cradling Glenn's face a heartbeat later; their kissing somehow chaste and heated within the same instance. It wasn't exactly shy in nature; these were not their first expression of affections shared. Still, there was some hesitation. Cara was, after all, so close by. Slowly, thoughts began to melt away. It became real, honest passion; heat and want, longing written between them. Then he found Glenn standing; tugging at his hands. 

"Come upstairs with me?" It was a question which surprised Daryl. He watched as Glenn's eyes went in the direction of where Cara slept. "I'll be able to hear her from your cell." That rich chocolate gaze locked on him then, something shy and hopeful within it. It pinned Daryl in place, took his breath away. All he could do was nod, the happy shock of the moment still keeping any ability with words he had hostage. He follow Glenn, who led him by the hand; a small smile on his face as they made their way up the stairs. 

When they entered the cell where Daryl kept his belongings, he pinned the younger man against the wall. Before he moved in for more, however, his eyes went to Glenn's face. He studied him in silence; seeing the way that time had written maturity and heartache upon his features. They were still soft, still so highly appealing and kind; but not in the way they had been when they'd first met. Back when Daryl had denied so many things within himself, back when he'd been someone else - someone he'd not liked in the least. Someone that had been safe to be, with the family he had. Well, as safe as one could be, with that same family in mind. Still, he loved this version of Glenn just as he'd loved the one he'd first been introduced to. He took the hands of the man in question, and watched as he tilted his head lightly.

"What?" Glenn's voice was gentle, curious. He brought Daryl's hands up to his lips and kissed them softly, watching him in return even as the warmth of his mouth drove its way through the older man's nerves. 

"Just.. thinkin'." Was the return. "You've been so.." Daryl was searching for a way to word it without sounding like a crass asshole; even if he'd been aching in the hours, days, weeks.. Years. Of Glenn's apparent uncertainty. 

"Hesitant. I've held back. It's alright, Daryl - you can say what's true. It won't hurt me." Those dark eyes glanced down then. "Really, I'm surprised you've dealt with my bullshit for so long." 

"Has been a lot of bullshit, yeah." He got a swat to the arm for that one, but they were both chuckling over it. Each with nervousness in his voice. "Glenn, I got a lot of patience when I want somethin'. I know how to wait when it means.. everythin'."

"Everything?" The way he held that word in his mouth, the way the sounds felt on his tongue. Daryl was entranced by it, even if it was in question. He leaned in and kissed Glenn once more, tasting the flavor of the man he'd been so enamored with for so long. That word was swallowed, the questing voice silenced and answered within the same instance. A kiss which was long, sweet and deep; hands sliding over familiar arms and shoulders, to Glenn's neck. Cupping first, then tangling in long, dark hair and holding on for dear life.

Everything.

And then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did that well. It was one of those things that hit me as a good idea, and then I started to write and was like "wait a second, what about.." and thus, the fact Glenn might need to pause to explain some things to Cara. If that makes sense? Still, I do think the books would be a good comparison, on some levels to a lifestyle that those in the prison have. If that makes sense? Er, if not - please don't flog me through the streets? :x 
> 
> I hope this moment between Glenn and Daryl isn't too soon? And sorry for the fade out there :x
> 
> Also, all of the chapters are made from song titles. Even the main title is that of a song I love! While some of the songs might not have anything to do with the content of the chapters, the titles borrowed do - at least in my mind. This one's title is something that was good twice over, right? Right? I know I'm right.
> 
> Totally.


	4. Good Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wrote itself? I'm actually surprised, since I just did the third earlier. Hmm. Probably not something to get used to?

He woke up slowly, the weight of an arm over his belly. Daryl blinked sleep from his eyes, and stretched out a little bit; trying not to bother the man who was curled against him. As soon as he moved, Glenn let out a sleepy noise and wrapped his arm around Daryl's middle more tightly. It caused the wakeful one to smirk gently, and he pulled his younger companion closer to himself. The bunk was small, it had gotten precarious at some points the night before - but at the moment? It could have encompassed the entire universe for all Daryl cared, knew or currently noticed. While they'd kept their senses peeled for the child sleeping down below in another cell, the two men had been otherwise eaten up with one another. It had been such a long time coming. Really, he was still basking in the afterglow. How could that last for so long? Probably just the elation of a dream coming to fruition in more ways than one, right? All that time he'd taken, courting Glenn. Bound to be some wild bonuses in that payoff.

He almost laughed at his own thoughts, but managed to hold his amusement down. Still, a few soft snorts of mirth escaped; the sounds were sensed by the one curled in on him. Glenn came awake with a slow yawn; burying his face in the crook of Daryl's neck. 

"What are you snorting at?" Was muttered; lips brushing sensitive skin. The chaos it stirred in him was thankless and delightful. Hard to ignore; not that he wanted to.

"Nothin'." Was all Daryl replied, before turning and wrapping Glenn tightly in his arms. He let out a sleepy growl and seized his lover's lips with his own. They warred for dominance, and it ended with Glenn being pinned down and Daryl straddled over him while his tongue ravished the mouth of his prize. Moans were vibrations to swallow, and the way Glenn squirmed beneath him made Daryl growl with need. He broke the war of lips to suck on the plump bottom petal, before sliding his kisses down a tipped up chin. Glenn arched his neck, and Daryl graced the length of it with a graze of teeth. "Fuck, but you are somethin' else, Kid." He'd been parting his lips to say more, or maybe to make another attack on that offered column, when the sound of someone clearing their throat made both men throw their eyes to the entrance of the cell.

There stood Carol, hands on her hips and a smirk on her face as she eyed the two of them. 

"Took long enough." She stated; letting the myriad meanings rest in the room before she decided to continue. "I didn't think ya'll would ever wake up. Glenn, I got Cara up for you this morning; saw the two of you come up here last night. Thought it would be nice to give you time to yourselves. She's in the library with Beth." The woman turned, giving the two men a wave of her hand while she tried not to laugh at the looks on their faces. They were both halfway between mortification and amusement, maybe something else - she really couldn't tell all of it. However, she'd said what she'd come to say. Until she took a step back and looked at them both again, thinking that she needed to add one more thing. "We're on lunch now, by the way. Two of you should come get some before it gets cold."

A few minutes after she left, the two of them remained quiet. Glenn was still trapped under Daryl, and the older man was just staring down at him with an unreadable expression. Slowly, he reached up and stroked over a whiskered cheek. Daryl turned his face towards Glenn's palm, kissing it softly before he flicked his eyes towards him. 

"Guess we might need to get used to sudden intrusions, huh?" Glenn asked, the words almost low enough to be classified as whispers. He watched the darkness in those beautiful eyes dissipate slowly, the tension in his body starting to relent - and then Daryl was smirking down at him. 

"Guess so, yeah."

"At least she didn't ask us in a yell if we were 'coming', hmmm?"

"Shut up, Kid." Daryl lifted a heavy blanket over the two of them, growling down at Glenn once again. There was a sudden cry from beneath it, which was follow by laughter, and then a hushed moan.

\---

"I'm happy for the two of you." Michonne was walking with Daryl; the two of them patrolling the fence where Walkers had long since started to gather again. There wasn't many of them these days, but they were still enough in numbers for those within the prison to understand that the threat wasn't gone. Some of them had ceased to wonder if the world would ever be put to rights where that was concerned. Still, the damned things were rotting; some had diminished completely - unable to move aside from to growl up at them from where they'd fallen. A swift, hard kick with sturdy boots was often enough to end that suffering; but it wasn't always so easy.

"Yeah?" 

"Yes." She smiled at him, then slammed her katana through the fence; right in to the eye socket of a gurgling Walker. It fell, and she slid the blade back in neatly before flicking gore from its length. Such an unworthy use of a wonderful weapon, but she really didn't feel completely at home with the weight of anything else in her hands. "Also, I'm happy to say 'told ya so'."

"Whatever."

She laughed again, then shot him a serious look. "I saw it first; the way you looked at him. Made me think of how I was with Andrea. Didn't want you to go through all of that, so I pushed maybe where I shouldn't have."

"Nah." They halted there at the fence, watching each other. For a moment, silence hung between them - before Daryl put the fashioned spear through a Walker which was hissing and gnashing teeth against the lengths of chain. Right in the mouth, upwards tilt hard. Took a moment to dislodge. "Nudges ain't nothin'. Person's gotta really want it." He was still yanking at the damned dead-man.

"Like you want that pipe back?"

"You ain't funny, this bastards fuckin' tough." Finally, he got it free and looked down at it. The end was blunted, caked in gore. "Need to sharpen it, shoulda noticed sooner." 

Michonne made a noise, dismissive. As if he were avoiding the subject. He raised his brows at her, she shrugged. "So, has he told her about the move yet?"

"No."

"Damn it, Glenn."

"That's what I said." Their replacements came then; Tyreese and Bob. The four made small talk, before the two men went about their business. Daryl and Michonne made their way towards the building, silence lingering for a moment or two. "He promised to talk to her today. Know he went off to the library after we ate; maybe I'm wrong and he went ahead with it."

"I hope so. Not saying anything isn't going to make it go away."

"He knows that."

"I know." Her voice was soft, having heard the sudden defensive streak in Daryl's. "He's just too gentle where she's concerned, that's all I meant. I get why, but he has to..."

"He's tryin', 'Chonne."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, once more - I hope it isn't shit, and I hope everyone is in character. This is the first time I've written Michonne or Carol, so yeah... Here's hoping I'm not blowing this? Yeah. Anyway, reviews are love! And um, I'm not too sure how sharpness would impact pulling something pokey out of a Walker's head - so, let's just pretend, right? Right. Yes. I'm going to go hide in my corner now. Goodnight :D

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is loved. I also have serious logic fail, so if something along those lines set you off? Sorry!
> 
> And yes, Glenn's hair is long - because I think'd be hot!


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